Waiting
by dfriendly
Summary: After receiving Uther’s reluctant approval, Arthur and Gwen impatiently await their wedding day... and night .


**Title: **Waiting 

**Show: **_Merlin _

**Characters/Pairings: **Gwen/Arthur, mentions of Uther & Morgana

**Rating:** R

**Word Count:** 1,492

**Spoilers:** Seasons 1&2

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Merlin_. All I possess is my adoration for it.

**Summary:** After receiving Uther's reluctant approval, Arthur and Gwen impatiently await their wedding day (and night).

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_The Waiting is the hardest part – Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers _

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Gwen was readying for bed when she heard the faint knock on her chamber door. Slipping on her dressing gown, she answered it to find Arthur.

"I wasn't sure if you'd still be awake," her betrothed greeted with a smile.

"Well I'm glad I am." She beckoned him inside and shut the door. "I missed you; we've barely seen each other the past few days."

Arthur's hand came up to her face. "I missed you, too. It's why I'm here." He pressed a kiss to her cheek. "I've been occupied with being on my best princely behavior to keep my father happy and remind him why he's letting me marry you."

"I know," she sighed, wrapping her arms around him and laying her head against his chest. "And it's always busy preparing for winter. I just wished your duties included spending a bit more time with your future wife."

"Well once winter comes, things always slow down and everyone gets cooped up in the castle. Then we'll have some spare time together, curled up in front of fires."

"I'll still be acting as Morgana's lady-in-waiting, though," she reminded, referring to the title she had quietly been bestowed with before their engagement was announced.

"I'm sure she'd be willing to relieve you every once in awhile. Besides, now that she has another handmaid, you're now more of a companion then someone who serves her."

"Yes, it is rather a useless position."

"Ah, but we can't have it sound like you're a commoner. I don't think my father could bring himself to announce the marriage of his son to anyone less than _Lady_ Guinevere. Even if it's not fooling anyone."

She shrugged. "Whatever it takes, I suppose."

"So how have you been fairing since I last saw you, _my lady_?" he asked with a sly smile. "Do you still refuse to have a handmaid?"

"Naturally."

He chuckled, not expecting any different from her. "And are you yet adjusted to your new residency in the castle?"

"Not quite. Although I suppose the proximity to you helps a great deal with the transition," Gwen replied in a lower voice, moving her hands to his shoulders and lifting herself up.

"It does have its benefits," he whispered right before their lips met.

She sighed against his mouth, pressing herself close. The kiss soon turned hungry as they lost themselves, their breathing heavy and panting. His hands roved on her hips, before moving to untie her dressing gown and hold her waist.

But as soon as his hands came in contact with the bare skin under her dressing gown, he made to pull them away.

"Thought you were wearing something under that," he muttered with a flush on his face.

Her own hands moved too quickly though, keeping his palms against her naked skin.

"Arthur, we _are_ engaged," she said with a meaningful look.

He took a deep, shaking breath, careful to look her directly in her eyes and not let his eyes wander down to the exposed strip of skin. "But I promised to wait until the wedding night."

"And that is one promise that I wouldn't mind you breaking."

"I'm _trying_ to be _chivalrous_." His voice was strained, showing his slight resentment of the vow he made to himself.

"And what's more chivalrous than saving a maiden from a great deal of suffering?'Her thumbs rubbed over the backs of his hands as she gave him a pained look, half-joking, half-serious. "The wedding is _months_ away. I hate having to wait that long."

He nodded in agreement.

Although Arthur had finally worn his father down to let him marry Gwen, they had to do it under _his_ terms, which meant that it would be a political event – as royal weddings usually were. Uther insisted on inviting nobility from varying places within and outside the kingdom. This meant the wedding would have to wait until mid-spring when traveling was easier.

"Me, too," Arthur whispered. "But if it means being able to marry _you_, I can wait as long as we have to."

Gwen sighed, knowing there would be no swaying him.

Sometimes she wondered if he needed to prove something to himself, that he could do the respectable thing, for her sake, instead of doing as he usually did: whatever he damn well pleased.

She loosened her grip, allowing Arthur's hands to slide out from under hers, but did not pull her robe closed. "I don't know how you can stand it. This waiting is driving me mad."

Arthur took a deep breath. "I… cope."

Gwen studied his uncomfortable expression, knowing there was something left unsaid. "_Oh_." She couldn't help an embarrassed smile, which relaxed Arthur.

"Sometimes I think it is the only thing keeping me sane," he said, his voice lower. "Have you ever …?"

Gwen's cheeks turned pink. "Only a little… Out of curiosity."

"And have you… ever reached completion?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"They say it's not proper for a woman to do that. So I would never do it for very long."

"Well, people also say it's not proper for a prince to marry a servant, and _they_ can be _damned_. I've stopped listening to what's _supposedly_ proper." He leaned in closer, his voice low. "There's nothing wrong with giving yourself the pleasure you're otherwise denied. Maybe it would be easier if you adopted my coping method."

He placed his right hand on hers, guiding it to rest on her bare stomach. Then he slid her hand up to cup her left breast under her robe and she inhaled sharply.

"Close your eyes," he whispered, to which she obeyed. "Imagine this is _my_ hand on you."

He squeezed his hand, making her own hand tighten over her breast. Then he proceeded to rub her palm over herself until her nipple grew taut. She couldn't back a gasp.

He drew her hand away, to which Gwen breathed a little easier although not without disappointment. Then her hand was directed down the plane of her torso to the juncture of her legs. She did not need his instruction to part her thighs.

When he found the point of her pleasure with her fingers, she moaned and bit her lip. "Arthur, _please_."

She felt the air stir from his shaking his head as he began moving her fingers over herself. "Think of me," he whispered. "Think of me doing this to you instead."

She made another noise as she imagined him bringing her this pleasure. It left her breathless. For _so long_ she'd imagined what it would be like for Arthur to touch her and now he was _so_ close, his fingers barely brushing her skin from their place on top her hand.

"Do you ever think of me?" she panted.

"I thought of making love to you earlier than I would like to admit."

"How early?"

"After Ealdor. It happened sort of by accident. You just appeared to me. Then you _kept_ appearing to me." He pressed his mouth above her ear, whispering, "And once I first kissed you, I _only_ ever thought of you. Wanting more than anything to make love to you, fantasizing about it." He swallowed nervously. "Does that trouble you?"

"No," she gasped, smiling. "I like that."

A few minutes passed of just their hands moving together and panting into each other's ears. Then his hand gently grasped at her wrist to stop her movement, making her whimper at the disruption.

"I'm going back to my room now. When you hear the door shut behind me, lie on your bed, spread your legs, and continue. While you do, I want you to think of how I will soon be on _my_ bed, thinking of _you_ doing just that."

Gwen bit her lip at the thought and waited to feel his body heat leave her, but he remained in silence. All she heard was the faint sound of his breathing.

"And then…" he began, making her hold her breath at what else he would ask of her. "Whenever you want me in the coming months, I want you to pleasure yourself. Explore your body. And I want you to think of me each time you do it, knowing I'm doing the same thing. Think of what you want me to do to you. And what you want to do to _me_. Find out what your body likes, what feels good. Then on our wedding night, you can tell me what you like, what you _want_."

If Gwen wasn't trembling before, she was now, thinking about her wedding night with her fiancée.

"Do you think you can do that for me?" he asked huskily.

"Yes," she breathed.

"Good. Until then," he whispered, pressing his mouth to her temple, "have a pleasant night, my love."

Gwen felt the curl of his lips forming a smile at his parting words before he brought his mouth to hers in a lingering goodnight kiss.

The door shut behind him.


End file.
